The Royal Conquest(53)
It was brutal and gripping.
He had no idea what he’d say when he found her. Mikhail only knew he could not let her walk away from the passion and laughter simmering between them because of his blasted stupidity and her misplaced prejudices.
Chapter Fourteen
Payton nearly collapsed with relief when she reached the sanctuary of their cabin. No. Just an ordinary cottage. She pulled at the horse’s reins, bringing him to a halt, then dismounted. The day was chilly and wet, and a shiver coursed through her. With efficient movements, she tethered Aeton, then fled inside the cottage. A fire blazed in the hearth, casting a golden hue over the cottage, a carafe of wine rested on the small center table, and the room had been aired and cleaned. There was a brown paper lump beside the wine, and she walked over and tore off the wrappings.
She swallowed past the tight lump in her throat. It was an illustrated first edition of Beauty and the Beast as told by Jean-Marie Leprince de Beaumont. Payton did not know how long she stood clutching the bound leather book to her chest, her cheeks wet with tears.
The clapping sound of hooves echoed from outside, and a minute later the door to the cottage opened. She could feel his searing gaze, but she did not turn around.
“Leave us and return to the estate,” Mikhail said flatly.
She turned to see to whom he spoke and espied Vladimir poised in the doorway of the cottage behind him.
Mikhail moved toward her with purposeful strides.
“Stay where you are,” she said hoarsely.
He stopped, regret darkening his eyes. “Payton, I—”
“What is all this?” She lifted the book and pointed to the cleaned room with its fresh curtains and bedsheets.
“I had planned for us to speak here.”
Though she knew, she needed to hear it from his lips. “You are titled?”
He schooled his features into a neutral mask, but she could see the guilt in his eyes.
“Yes.”
She clenched her hands over the book to prevent their obvious shaking. “You are a prince, a duke, and not a man of affairs or an advisor to Calydon?”
“Payton, I—”
“Answer me!” Her voice came out like a snarl, ferocious enough that he halted the movement of reaching for her.
He flicked a glance to Vladimir, positioned near the entrance of the cottage, pretending he was not listening with rapt interest. With a bow, he gracefully exited and closed the door with a soft snick. The deference shown to Mikhail only served to incense her further.
“You are a prince, and you are engaged to wed a princess.” And Payton had almost given him her virtue like a wanton harlot. The clenching pain around her heart was unbearable.
“I am not engaged. Princess Tatiana tried to compromise me into marrying her, and I refused.”
She remembered the implication of the princess patting her stomach. “But she is with child.”
He stepped closer, and she backed away.
“Her child is not mine, and I have no intention of marrying Princess Tatiana.”
Payton was angry at the surge of relief pulsing in her veins. “You told my family of your background, knowing they would pressure me into such an elevated union .”
He closed his eyes. “Payton, I—”
“Is your name even Mikhail?”
His jaw visibly clenched. “I am Prince Alexander Mikhail Konstantinovich Dashkova, the Count of Montgomery, and the Duke of Avondale.”
Payton’s heart pounded. “Why did you lie to me?”
“My reasons for wanting anonymity had nothing to do with you.” There was a wealth of pain in his voice that tugged at her heart.
“It was my intention to remain from the prying eyes of society for several months. I simply wanted peace, and I then met you. I…I did not hate the thought of you touching me, and I was not sure what I felt, so I decided to take the time to know you. No woman has ever looked at me and not seen the privileged life I could give her. When we met, Payton, I could see the attraction in your eyes, and you felt this without knowing if I had a farthing to my name. I realized I could pursue you simply as a man and not a prince, a duke, who the haute monde was already clamoring to meet, and I acted on the desire. I never meant to hurt you.”
And I wanted you because you had no expectation of me to behave in a ladylike fashion. “From what did you want peace?”
“Society,” he said flatly. “Scandals, gossips, young ladies doing all in their power to compromise me.”
“Thank you for being honest. I will implore you to leave this cottage.”
He flinched. “Did you want me when you believed I was an ordinary man?”
Yes. Her throat closed on the answer.
“Tell me you didn’t want me then, and I will leave you alone,” he said with shivering intensity.